


And Now --- You are a Host!

by Willow_bird



Series: Palmetto Academy Host Club [1]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Allison is BAMF, Alternate Universe - High School, Andrew/Neil is a ship from the beginning but they don't realize it yet, Crack Fic, Fluff, Gen, I'm not sure how else to tag this, Inspired by Ouran High School Host Club, Nicky is still basically Tamaki, POV Neil Josten, Seth Gordon Lives, i already have all their backstories written out and i'm very attached, there are some character parallels but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:01:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25593955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willow_bird/pseuds/Willow_bird
Summary: Neil Josten has just started at Palmetto Academy, an outrageously fancy school for rich kids with way too much time on their hands. All he wanted was to find a quiet place to study, but as per usual in these things -- he ended up getting far more than he bargained for.---The AFTG Ouran High School Host Club AU that absolutely no one asked for.
Relationships: Neil Josten & Andrew Minyard
Series: Palmetto Academy Host Club [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1855060
Comments: 34
Kudos: 153





	And Now --- You are a Host!

**Author's Note:**

> So. I was reading some aftg fanfiction, as you do, and was also watching Ouran. And. Well. This happened. 
> 
> You probably don't have to have read or watched OHSHC to read this, but it's going to seem REALLY BIZARRE if you haven't. I hope you enjoy!!

Sigh. Neil hated private schools. They were all filled with pretentious rich kids with way too much time on their hands and absolutely no concept of the real world. _Annoying_ didn’t even begin to cover it. Why was he here again?

Oh, right, because he got a full-ride scholarship that also gave him a stipend every month. A stipend that, in tandem with what he earned from his part-time job, was enough for him to live off of as a not-quite-emancipated minor. He was even able to put away a little bit into savings each month so that he could afford to get a car at some point (legally, this time, with all the proper paperwork and everything). Not to mention that being a scholarship student to the elite Palmetto Academy and maintaining his GPA throughout his years there would look _excellent_ on his transcripts and Neil fully intended to attend a good university and walk away with multiple degrees - a whole folder full of official documents saying that Neil Josten _was_ someone and was capable of putting his mark on the world.

For a kid who’d always had to be _no one_ \- that meant something.

So here he was, at the acclaimed Palmetto Academy. The place was utterly _ridiculous_. From the outside it looked like a gilded castle, with towers and spires and way too many staircases. There were statues of guardian foxes (the Palmetto Academy mascot) in a variety of regal or aggressive poses distributed across the grounds and at every entrance in excess. There was a bloody _chandelier_ in the entrance hall. Students walked around in designer ~~costumes~~ uniforms that were way too ornate for a high school and cost half his month’s rent. 

The staff - not the teachers, the _staff_ \- also wore a uniform and greeted each student as “Miss” and “Sir”.

Neil was honestly kind of disturbed, and it took more self-control than he liked to admit for him to refrain from turning heel and running the fuck away - especially with all the stares he kept getting. See, Neil wasn’t used to being under scrutiny. He excelled at blending in, being that faceless kid in the back of the room that you kind of knew but could never really remember. Here, though? Here he stuck out like a sore thumb with his dark, baggy clothes and shaggy auburn hair. Even as a scholarship student he was required to purchase his own school uniform but they’d given him a grace period of one month before he started earning demerits for being inappropriately dressed. 

(As another example of out wildly outrageous this school was: being out of uniform earned you demerits but leaving in the middle of class to answer your cell phone didn’t - because many students were actively involved in their parents’ businesses or, in fact, ran their own. _Yeah_ \- but at least that meant that the available classes included math advanced enough not to bore him to tears.)

It was still only his first week and right now Neil was worried less about the uniform and more about finding a quiet place to study during the morning free period.

(And that was _another_ weird thing! They had a morning free period, a two-hour lunch, and then an afternoon free period. Honestly, it seemed like all the students were flitting about school outside of classes more than classes were actually in session. Sure, the coursework was rigorous, and the classes themselves were intensive but _hell!_ )

He’d already been to both of the libraries (.... _two_ libraries, Jesus fuck) but there was some kind of mock trial club meeting on the upper floor of one of them and were loud enough to take over the whole place, and the other featured a bloody string quartet (hired musicians, not students) for _atmosphere_. Yeah. No. 

Desperate to find someplace to do his work, Neil had started wandering through the second club wing of the massive building. Most of the doors were open to reveal clearly occupied rooms filled with rich kids who had way too much time on their hands, or if the doors were closed he could hear the sounds of more rich kids who also had _way_ too much time on their hands. Neil was beginning to lose hope when he reached the end of the hall and a pair of double doors. On the golden plate hanging above the door, engraved in elegant, loopy script was: _Music Room No. 3._

He crept toward the door and pressed his ear to the smooth white-painted wood, listening. It was _quite_

“Oh, thank fuck.” With a deep breath, relief washing through him, Neil pushed open the door. He was expecting an empty room, or maybe something set up for an ensemble that happened not to be practicing during this free period. What he found instead was something, well, it was _something_.

The room was set up like an elegant lounge, with couches and small tables, three fireplaces (..the fuck?), and a large garden patio visible through a set of glass double doors directly across the room from where Neil had just entered. There were grand decorations strewn throughout the room as well, statues and priceless-looking vases sitting on pedestals spaced between the seating areas, ten-foot oil paintings in golden frames hanging on the walls, and at least four chandeliers hanging from an ornate ceiling that had absolutely no place being regular architecture in a _school_ ( and what the everliving _fuck_ was up with all the chandeliers?). Sitting sprawled across a couple of couches and cozy-looking armchairs closest to the door were an assortment of students. The only girl in the room was standing beside a whiteboard that had been wheeled in front of the group and she was pointing something out on it as the others listened with varying degrees of attentiveness. Realizing that he’d been mistaken and some club or whatever was clearly using this room as a meeting space, Neil turned to leave. 

He was not so lucky. 

Just as he turned to go, one of the boys spotted him and jumped up with a broad grin on his face. “Oh! A _client!_ ” He was tall (though, considering Neil was only just over five feet tall himself, _everyone_ was tall to him) with light brown skin and softly curled black hair, dark eyes, and a beauty mark on his left cheek. 

“Um. No. I was just… looking for a place to study,” Neil said. Or, well, he tried to. The taller boy had already looped an arm around his shoulders and paid no heed to Neil’s reflexive flinch as he hauled him deeper into the room. 

“First recess we usually just have a private club meeting before we open to the public for lunch but I can certainly make an exception for a sweet, timid thing like you. So tell me, who would you like to serve you today?” he continued as if Neil had never spoken, gesturing with his free arm to the rest of the… club?

“Ugh, Nicky stop being creepy. You sound like some kind of predator.” This came from a casually disheveled boy who was sitting on the back of one of the couches, his feet on the cushions. His skin was a richer, warmer brown than Nicky’s and he kept his tightly curled dark hair styled close to his head. A broad nose drew attention down to a finely shaped mouth and even as someone who didn’t really do casual attraction, Neil had to admit that this boy was one of the most objectively beautiful people he had ever seen. 

“Aw Seth don’t be like that! This sweet little freshie came to _us!_ He wants some company!”

Neil grimaced and tried to shrug out of Nicky’s grasp but he was held fast. Only for a moment, though, because a second later there was a solid _‘thunk!’_ and a knife was lodged in the expensive hardwood of the music room floor right between Nicky’s feet. Nicky yelped and released him, jumping several feet away. Neil was quick to scurry to safety as well because that was a _fucking knife_. Neil didn’t like knives. He especially didn’t like them being thrown around. In his direction. Where they could _fucking stab him_.

“Nicky do we need to have another conversation about boundaries?” Neil didn’t need to rely on surrounding conversation to know who that deceptively casual, cool voice belonged to. 

“Annnndreeeeeew! Don’t be so mean! I’m just trying to be _welcoming!_ ” Nicky whined as Neil regarded the diminutive blond boy in question with wary consideration. Neil shared two classes so far with the twins, and while Aaron was fairly social and seemed popular, Andrew was considerably quieter and people seemed to keep their distance. If he was in the habit of throwing _knives_ at people, Neil supposed he now knew why. 

“You were being grabby, and I doubt _that_ kid is here for the club. He’s more antisocial than Andrew and he’s here on academic scholarship so he doesn’t need any tutoring.” Aaron sighed, apparently annoyed, and stood from the couch. He walked over, only giving Neil a cursory glance that told him exactly how little the boy thought of him on his way to pry the knife from the floor. Dick. 

Neil looked from one twin to the other as Aaron tossed the knife to his brother, who slipped it away in the armbands he was rumored to wear under his uniform. Not a rumor then. This school kept getting better and better. _Not._

The twins were identical. Fair skinned, blond haired, hazel eyed - and fatally stuck at exactly five feet tall. They were sophomores like himself, and both on the honor track so it was likely he was going to see them in more of his classes throughout the week. He hadn’t wanted to draw their attention to begin with and now that he had it he was greatly regretting not just sucking it up and getting his work done in the violin-infested library. Aaron, at least, seemed like he’d be happy to go back to ignoring him. Mr. Stabby on the other hand was looking at him with an intense curiosity that made Neil wary. He hoped Andrew wasn’t thinking about acquiring a moving target for his knife-throwing practice. 

“Whaaa? How do you know that?” Nicky’s eyes were wide, his mouth agape with astonishment as he looked from Aaron to his twin, who was using the returned blade to clean a bit of dirt out from under his fingernails. 

Aaron rolled his eyes. “We have classes with him, doofus.”

Nicky gave an indignant sniff. “I’m not a doofus. I’m the President of the Palmetto Academy Host Club, I’m… I’m it’s _king!_ ”

“More like it’s queen,” Seth offered without ridicule, and Nicky blushed. 

Neil on the other hand was currently inching toward the door, intending on taking advantage of their banter to make a quick and quiet getaway. 

“Don’t let them scare you,” came a warm, cheery voice from directly behind Neil. 

A soft but utterly undignified squeak escaped him as he jumped several inches and whirled around to face the other two members of the club. The girl was still several inches taller than himself and she was wearing the dress version of the female uniform, a dove gray dress with orange and white accents. He couldn’t be sure, because he hadn’t really paid all that close attention to the girls’ uniforms, but he thought she might have made some of her own alterations and edits to the dress. She was eyeing him with open curiosity as she tapped her bright orange nails thoughtfully against her lips. 

The boy, who’d been the one to speak, was only a little taller than the girl. His dark blond hair was longer and curly on top but buzzed close to his head on the sides in a similar style to Seth’s - except their hair was completely different textures. Bright blue eyes smiled out at him and his grin was wide and bright and pearly white. He instantly reminded Neil of one of those golden retriever puppies, all sunshine and spirit and ready to play. 

Just looking at him was exhausting. 

“Um. I was just… I need to study…” Neil inched to the side, intending to go around them and head for the door again, but the girl took a neat step to shadow him, her lips curving in amusement. 

“No need to run away, duckling. Don’t worry, we won’t bite. Besides, if you’re some fancy honor student you might want to know about our club.”

“Ah, yeah. No thanks. Bye.” He went to move around her again, and again she blocked him. With a huff, Neil adjusted the strap of his bag and feinted to the right, then dodged to the left and darted around her with a bolt of speed he knew she wasn’t expecting. 

Of course, _he_ wasn’t expecting to trip on the end of the rug and go wheeling and stumbling into one of the pedestals stationed throughout the room. It rocked, it trembled, and the large ornate vase situated on top of it wobbled. Neil’s eyes went wide and he watched it tilt just a bit too far and start to fall. 

“Shit!!” He reached, but it was too late. A loud, resounding _CRASH_ interrupted the room. 

The silence that billowed in the wake of the crash was deafening. Neil gulped and slowly turned to face the club members, who had all turned toward him at the sound. 

“Uh… Look, I’m sorry… I was just looking for a place to study.”

“And, what, so you break our stuff because we got here first?” Aaron shot him a dirty look and Neil had to struggle to tamper down on his temper. Now really wasn’t the time or the place for it. 

“ _No_ ,” he gritted out with exaggerated patience. “It was an accident. _She_ wouldn’t let me leave.” He pointed an accusing finger at the girl, who lifted her shoulders in an unapologetic shrug. Rolling his eyes, Neil looked back at the club members. “I’m sorry. I… I’ll find a way to pay it back.”

The girl snorted, drawing his attention again - he was really starting not to like her. “Please. That vase cost over eight thousand dollars.” She dragged her gaze over him, from his messy hair to his beaten-up shoes, clearly in disbelief that he was capable of paying that much for anything. She wasn’t wrong. Maybe six months ago he might have been able to get his hands on that kind of cash, but not anymore. He could reach out to his uncle, he supposed, but there were a few very good reasons why he hadn’t asked him for any financial support and instead was living off of the school scholarship stipend and his part-time job. 

“Oh!” Nicky legitimately jumped up and down and clapped his hands. “I know! You can pay off the debt with your body!”

“What!?” Neil whipped his gaze back to him, his hands in fists, fire in his eyes.

“No.” Andrew at least seemed to agree. He had his knives out. 

“Nicky, I don’t--” Even Seth looked unsure at this most recent idea from their… president? King? Weirdos.

“Shh!” Nicky cackled, waving his hands at his club members before winking over at Neil. “I didn’t mean like _that_. Sweet little ragamuffin that he is, I’d never dare suggest anything so scandalous. I _mean_ , he can be our little errand boy!”

* * *

Neil was back in Music Room No. 3 just after the bell chimed (yes, _chimed_ ) for lunch recess. He’d spent a good portion of his world geography class obsessively running through all of his options and, unfortunately, he’d come to the conclusion that playing along with these very strange and vaguely threatening teenagers was probably the safest option. The _last_ thing he wanted to do was reach out to his Uncle Stuart, and if the club decided to go to the administration about his slip-up he’d have no choice but to do so _and_ his scholarship might be threatened. 

No, it was better just to play along, run errands or whatever for their… host club? What the hell even _was_ that? 

This was the first question Neil asked upon arriving in the club room to find that the entire rest of the club was already there.

“It’s simple,” explained Allison - the only girl and VP of the club, “the Host Club is a place where girls can come spend time with the smartest and most attractive members of the student body in a safe space.” At Neil’s blank look, she threw up her hands on a sigh. 

“Technically, we’re a tutoring club,” offered Jeremy - the sunshiney boy from earlier who reminded Neil far too much of an excitable puppy. “And _most_ of our clientele are girls, but not all of them.” He grinned and picked up a clipboard off the table they were all sitting around, passing it over to Neil. It was some kind of questionnaire. 

“Anyone who wants to come to the club during our public hours - that’s the second half of the lunch recess, the whole afternoon recess, and select days after school - fills out one of those. It helps us place them with a host/tutor.”

Neil skimmed the questionnaire. Some of it seemed pretty by the by with questions like ‘ _what subjects or areas do you need help with?_ ’ and ‘ _is there a test/project you are specifically preparing for?_ ’ - but there were also questions like ‘ _do you want to be flirted with like the shining star you are?’_ and ‘ _what pet name, if any, would you like to be called by our adoring hosts?_ ’

“Uh… what’s with the pet name thing?” Neil looked up and around at the club suspiciously. 

Jeremy chuckled, utterly unconcerned. “Well, we’re a bit _more_ than just a tutoring club.”

“Our mission,” Nicky exclaimed, jumping up with a wide grin, his beauty mark warring for domination with the dimple right below it, “is to make every girl happy! Each beautiful flower that comes through our doors deserves to be adored! But also to pass her classes.” He nodded sagely, attempting seriousness at the end but not quite succeeding. 

“Guys too,” Jeremy added. “Though most of the few guys who do come aren’t really interested in the affection services our club provides.”

“ _Affection services?_ What, are you guys… selling friendship or something?” Neil had never had any friends, but that sounded like the wrong way to go about it.

Jeremy looked hurt and Nicky looked offended as he put his hands on his hips and responded. “No way! We aren’t actually selling anything. No one has to pay anything to utilize the club’s tutoring and atmosphere of _utter perfection_ , thank you very much.”

“Look, it’s like this.” Allison had been filing her nails but at this point she leveled the full weight of her stare on Neil - a distinctly uncomfortable feeling that made him want to squirm. “What makes our club so popular is that there are a bunch of really hot guys that will happily flirt with you without stepping over your boundaries. No one is going to cop a feel, no one is going to assume you’re gonna blow them for that A. Or, on the other side, you know you can come here and _not_ get hit on _at all_ if that’s what you put down on your sheet.” 

Jeremy was nodding along and he chimed in next. “Exactly, and sometimes it’s nice just to get a bit of innocent attention and flirting without the pressure of trying to turn it into some kind of relationship. We have some clients who come in regularly even though they don’t need rigorous homework help, just because it feels nice to be seen and reacted to in a positive way. If we can do that, why shouldn’t we?”

“Right…” Neil still wasn’t sure he got it, but it wasn’t like he was going to be a host or anything so he guessed it wasn’t actually any of his business what they did or why they did it. “Well, right. Okay, so what do I do?”

Here Nicky grinned. He snapped his fingers and held up his hand. A slip of paper all but materialized in it a moment later - delivered by Seth who looked thoroughly amused by today’s developments - which was the opposite of the twins. Aaron looked like he was physically in pain at the idea of having Neil lurking around and Andrew looked bored out of his mind.

“Ahem!” Neil tore his gaze away from the twins and received a grin in reward from the self-purported _King of the Host Club_. “Now, as our errand boy, you will be responsible for accomplishing all the little tasks we just really don’t have time for. Cleaning, set up, fetching anything we might need from other places around the school, and acting as the go-between for the club and the staff. Lunch time is crucial. We always serve tea, coffee, refreshments and the like, but we always have small meal options for the lunch hour for those who like to simulate their minds and their stomachs at the same time.”

He handed the piece of paper to Neil and Neil saw that it was more or less an itemized menu. 

“Take this down to the kitchens to put in our order, and when you get back you can get started on the flower arranging!” When Neil just stared at him blankly ( _flower arranging? really?_ ), Nicky clapped his hands suddenly enough that he jumped. “Chop chop! Time’s a-wastin’!”

With a heavy sigh, Neil tucked the paper into his pocket and headed out of the room. Luckily he already knew where the kitchens were - he’d accidentally ended up there yesterday when he was trying to get to his english class.

* * *

Neil’s days fell into a routine, odd of a routine as it was. The Host Club wasn’t actually _requiring_ him to be at every single meeting or anything, but the more he showed up for, the quicker his debt was reduced. He’d sat down with Allison after school on that first day and worked out all of the math. They’d agreed he’d get bonus deductions for showing up at the various special events that they hosted, or for anything that required him to perform club duties outside school hours or off the school premises. It wasn’t an _ideal_ situation, but it could be a lot worse. 

After two weeks, or just about, Neil had a handle on how much time he could give the club without it weighing on his schoolwork - because his grades had to remain his highest priority so that he could maintain his scholarship. He went to the club room for all three break times, but during the morning free period he secluded himself in a quiet corner and did his own studying and school work as the rest of the club planned for their activities or fucked around or whatever it was they did when they weren’t wooing clients. 

Oh, and there was a _lot_ of that the moment the doors opened. 

Jeremy and Nicky seemed to be the most popular, though Seth wasn’t far behind. Allison was mostly behind-the-scenes, but she was there for every single meeting and often walked around to check in and see if anyone needed anything and if they were doing well. She reminded him of the manager at a high-end restaurant, checking in to make sure the servers were doing their job and the food was good. It was a weird comparison to make at a high school study club. Host club. Whatever. 

Neil had noticed that while Nicky pretty much exclusively had clients who wanted to be flirted with in his ridiculous way - Andrew’s clients were the opposite. His groups and one-on-one sessions were entirely academic, though Neil thought that it seemed like Andrew was… not really _nicer_ , but maybe _softer_ with the girls and the few guys who came to see him. He was also incredibly patient and was arguably the best actual _tutor_ in the whole club. 

Each day, the guys would see a mix of regular, new, and floating clients. Neil was good at patterns, so he picked up on the niches for each… host. They all had different specialties in the academics, with some overlaps, and the floaters or new clients were usually placed with a host primarily based on their academic needs or specific requests.

Usually, those specific requests were for one of the flirty hosts but today there had been a one-on-one project assist request for Andrew from a new client. The request had been put in a week ago, and Andrew had granted it with a shrug when the club had gone over the appointment requests that afternoon. Neil hadn’t paid much attention at the time and didn’t really care at all about the appointment until the girl actually arrived. Until from across the room where he was watering the plants, Neil could see the way Andrew stiffened as the girl sat down so close to him that their arms brushed. 

Andrew held his one-on-one appointments in a small sitting area in the far corner of the music room that was partially sectioned off by the seating arrangement and was right against the windows that looked out into the garden patio. The rest of the hosts were all busy, most with multiple clients for small-group study/flirt sessions. No one noticed the way the girl leaned in too close, the way she seemed to be whispering in his ear, the way every muscle tensed in Andrew’s small but formidable form. 

It wasn’t that Neil paid _extra_ attention to Andrew or anything. He just liked to be aware of his surroundings and the life he’d had up to this point had conditioned him to be wary of threats, especially ones he had to maintain close quarters with on a regular basis. Andrew carried knives and alternated between seeming annoyed by him and amused by him - which made him a threat and so Neil paid attention. 

It hadn’t taken him long to realize that Andrew did not like to be touched. Nor did he like to be lavished with flirtatious advances - which was one of the reasons why he exclusively took clients who didn’t want any in return. He was here for the tutoring and to watch the other club members make asses of themselves (his words). Andrew was a lot of things. He was _dangerous_ in a lot of ways - but he was also one of the most respectful people Neil had ever met when it came to personal boundaries. He never judged someone for them, he just silently abided. 

And now there was this girl who was attempting to walk all over his. 

Now, Neil knew that Andrew could take care of himself. He literally carried _knives_ with him to an elite private school with highly trained security where no one should ever need to keep knives on them for personal safety. But looking at him now, all Neil could see was that someone was leaning into Andrew’s space. Someone was making him feel uncomfortable, making him feel unsafe. Someone was _touching_ him.

Neil was moving before he made the conscious decision to do so, striding across the room with long, quick steps. He had the top of the watering can unscrewed before he got there and the second her hand landed on Andrew’s thigh he was thrusting the now-open watering can forward and dousing her with water. Some of the water got on Andrew too, but the majority of it soaked the predatory little bitch to the skin and caused her to snap her hand back on reflex. 

Her scream was shrill and outraged as she jumped to her feet, black lines of makeup running down her face from her eyes, then smearing all over her cheeks as she rubbed her hands over her face to clear the makeup and water from her vision. Andrew looked on, those bright hazel eyes wide with surprise, as she took an angry step toward him, her face red under the streaked makeup.

“What the fuck!? What the hell did you do that for!?”

Neil ignored her shrieked spluttering, which was quickly drawing the attention of the entirety of the room. He ignored them too. His attention was only for Andrew, whose expression had closed into something wary and considering. Neil met that gaze, and he waited. He let Andrew see that anything he felt, anything he thought, about the situation was only in regards to how pissed off he was that some bitch was tromping over his boundaries. There was no pity in him, not for Andrew and not for anyone else. Anger kept you warmer than pity ever would.

He was so focused on Andrew, in fact, that he didn’t notice the girl had moved to hit him until Andrew suddenly stood up and shoved her so hard that she tripped and toppled over the short coffee table right before the couch.

Neil blinked in surprise, looking from the bitch to Andrew and back again before finally settling his gaze on the shorter boy. Andrew shrugged and lifted his chin a bit in acknowledgement, then Neil nodded. 

They were even, then. And maybe some sort of an understanding had been born between them as well. Neil wasn’t exactly sure what it was, yet, but he didn’t really feel the need to analyze it either. 

“Oh my God what happened!?” Nicky had arrived, and behind him so had the rest of the hosts as well as most of the students here to meet with them. 

Bitch Girl was quicker to respond than Neil or Andrew, and she practically _simpered_ as she hung off of Jeremy, who had bent to help her up. “Th-th-they just attacked me! This… this scruffy little… _thing_ threw water on me, out of _nowhere!_ ”

“What, I thought that was what you were supposed to do to a witch?” Neil tossed back lightly, shrugging with as much innocence as he could muster. When all eyes snapped instantly to him he belatedly remembered that he was trying to keep his mouth shut and his head down. Whoops. Still, it felt worth it for the hint of an approving smirk he could see on Andrew’s lips. 

Seth was covering his mouth so he didn’t laugh, but after a moment he cleared his throat and straightened his face enough to ask, “I dunno, Neil’s definitely scruffy, but he’s reluctant enough to water the plants - I’m not sure why he’d feel the need to water you, too.”

“She was getting handsy.” Andrew cut off Bitch Girl before she could make another attempt to make her case. He kept his tone light, almost bored, but there was residual tension across his brow and the cutting edge of his cheekbones. 

The effect of that statement was instantaneous. Apparently, the club members were _also_ aware of Andrew’s preferences - and maybe more than that as well, because every single one of them stiffened. Jeremy even dropped his arm from around Bitch Girl and stepped away. A quick look around showed that Aaron looked like he was about to commit murder and Nicky might start crying. Allison stepped forward and her expression was set in a nasty, angry little sneer as she wielded a nail file like a dagger, pointing it at the girl like she wanted to shove it down her throat. 

“You break our rules, you get the fuck out. _Now_ , bitch.”

“Wait, what?” Bitch Girl’s eyes widened, her lip trembled, she _whimpered_ as the hosts parted to give her a direct path to the door. Neil curled his own lip in disgust at the way she was acting. 

“You heard her,” he said helpfully. “Now go on,” he affected the deeply southern country accent that a few neanderthals had chosen to tease him with despite the fact that he didn’t _have_ any sort of an accent, “ _git._ ” This earned him a chorus of laughter and Bitch Girl’s wounded shock turned to scorn.

“You’ll hear about this!” she proclaimed imperiously.

“I think the line is:” Seth put on a rather convincing British accent, a bit on the posh side but not incorrect, “‘My father will hear about this!’” Neil didn’t get the reference, but everyone else apparently did because the laughter roared again, thicker and fuller than before. 

Bitch Girl just about _snarled_. In a whirl, she snatched up the pitcher of ice water that was always left on each table in all the sitting areas (Neil had to fill them and keep them cold all damn day, so he was very aware of how full and how cold it was). 

The shock of cold was like a physical blow and even though a part of him was almost prepared for it in the split-second before the water was thrown, his body still reacted on instinct. All he knew was cold. _Cold cold cold **cold**._ He didn’t register dropping down and curling to protect himself, but that was where he was an instant later when his brain caught up with him. He sucked in a sharp gasp and hunched further, his hands interlocked over his head and his knees digging into his chest as he made himself as small and covered as possible. 

It was _instinct_ , but even when reality set in and he realized it had only been a pitcher of cold water and nothing more sinister - that he was surrounded by high school students and no one who _actively_ had the skill or intention to torture and murder him - he remained where he was. People were all around, staring, watching, and he couldn’t risk appearing vulnerable like this, but he also couldn’t let them _see_ \-- because it had been a warm day today and the shirt he was wearing was too thin. Even with the extra sizes the water was making it cling to every curve and ridge on his body and that meant that if he stood up his scars would show and he… he couldn’t let that happen. 

There was a small commotion and when Neil looked up, Andrew was standing directly in front of him, a human shield against the rest of the room. Seth and Aaron were all but dragging Bitch Girl away with Allison storming after them, her voice a high and vengeful storm.

“Well! That was _exciting!_ Ladies, my lovelies, I think that’s all for today. I promise we’ll get in touch with you to reschedule soon!” Nicky expertly swooped in, corralling the rest of the clients and guiding them away as Jeremy came over to where Andrew was still an immovable boundary before him. When Andrew made no move to get out of his way, Jeremy crouched down where he was and it took effort for Neil not to flinch away from the warm concern he could read in the other boy’s face. 

“Hey, you okay?” His voice was low and steady. Neil had the weird feeling that Jeremy was used to talking to people in distress and he was employing those tactics now. He didn’t quite know how to feel about that.

“I’m fine.” The words bit out a bit harsher than he intended but he let it stand. “I need to go. I… I don’t have anything else to change into.”

Jeremy looked from Neil to Andrew for a moment. Some kind of silent agreement happened between them that Neil couldn’t follow before Jeremy looked back at him with that same kind, warm, steady tone. “We have a few spare uniforms in the closet. Andrew can take you to get one and you can change in the bathroom. Will that work?”

Now it was Neil’s turn to look from one boy to the other, wary of this offer. What did they want for it? Why the hell would they offer him a uniform? 

Oh. 

His eyes narrowed at Jeremy. “I’m not interested in adding to my debt.”

Jeremy blinked in genuine surprise. “What? No, you wouldn’t owe us anything. I promise.”

“Why the hell should I trust you?” He’d been tricked into sneaky ass deals before. When it came down to it, it would be his word against Jeremy’s and no one in their right mind would believe _him_ over puppy-boy. 

Jeremy floundered and looked imploringly up at Andrew. Neil followed the look and met Andrew’s gaze.

A heavy, considering moment hung between them before Andrew finally spoke. “Do you trust me to tell you the truth?”

Neil paused at that. ‘ _Do you trust me to tell the truth?_ ’ not ‘ _Do you trust me?_ ’ The answer to the second question would absolutely be a resounding _**no**_ , because Neil didn’t trust _anyone_. He couldn’t. Not if he wanted to survive. 

The first question, though… For anyone else, that answer would be ‘no’ as well, but Andrew was different. Andrew said he didn’t lie and Neil believed them. There was also something of an understanding that they’d had today and… he thought maybe that was part of it. Andrew wouldn’t be a threat to Neil unless Neil proved himself a threat to Andrew - and if that day came he would know about it. Andrew had his own code and he was unfailingly true to that code. 

“Yes,” Neil heard himself say, again before making the conscious decision to really do so. This was happening a lot around Andrew, he realized, though he wasn’t sure why. 

Andrew nodded, pleased - either with his answer or the honesty behind it, Neil wasn’t sure and wasn’t sure it mattered either. “No one is going to add to your debt for wearing or even keeping the uniform.” At Neil’s hard look, Andrew rolled his eyes. “Fighting with you about it would be boring. Just take it, you need it.” 

Neil snorted but didn’t argue any further. He was more concerned about getting out of his wet clothes before the others came back. 

“Well then, I’ll… leave you guys to it.” Jeremy stood and flashed them both a smile before turning and heading off to help Nicky with the rescheduling and dealing with the lingering girls. 

Neil watched him go, then looked up at Andrew before carefully standing. He kept his arms folded across his front, clutching at the drenched fabric to keep it slightly pulled away from his skin so the scars wouldn’t show. Andrew looked at him for a moment, then turned and started walking toward the storage room without a word. Sighing to himself, Neil followed.

* * *

Neil toweled off and changed into the uniform of dove gray slacks, orange shirt with white accents, and a gray blazer in the luxurious and ridiculously ornate club member’s bathroom that was directly connected to the club room itself. He didn’t even have to change in the toilet stall because there were two locking _changing rooms_ in the corner of the room. 

He fidgeted as he adjusted his sleeves and looked at himself in the mirror. The uniform fit well. _Really_ well. Perfectly, actually - and Neil wasn’t used to wearing clothes that actually fit. It wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly, but it was _weird_.

Andrew was waiting for him in the bathroom lounge when he came out. There was a long stretch of silence as the other boy looked him over and there was _something_ in Andrew’s eyes that he just couldn’t decipher as the blond moved forward to take a closer look. At one point he reached up as if to touch his hair and then paused, looking to him for permission, which Neil granted with a shrug. Andrew fussed briefly with the shaggy wayward curls and then brushed them completely out of his face. 

They stood there for a moment, entirely too close, Andrew’s hand in his hair, and Neil didn’t feel the need to move away like he normally definitely would have. It was probably because he trusted Andrew’s respect of boundaries as much as he trusted his adherence to the truth. 

Distantly, it occurred to him that he’d decided to put a lot of trust into one very dangerous, knife-wielding teenager, in a very short amount of time and this was something he should probably be concerned about - but at the moment it barely phased him because he was too curious about the way the gold and brown in Andrew’s eyes were so curiously distinct, threads of metal and light sparking between panes of honey wilderness. He didn’t know hazel eyes could look like that. Like entire galaxies could fit within the irises. 

Finally, after what was probably thirty seconds but felt like ten minutes, Andrew sighed and stepped away. “Will you let Allison cut your hair?”

“What?” Neil gave Andrew a look much as if the other boy had suddenly spoken a riddle in song form, which he really might as well have. 

“Your hair is a disaster and Allison is going to swoop in on you the second we get out there. If you let her cut your hair, she’ll probably agree to drop your debt.”

Neil’s eyebrows visited his hairline in a journey of bewilderment. “Why the fuck would she lower my debt if I let _her_ cut _my_ hair?”

“Just trust me on this one,” intoned back dryly. 

“Uh, okay.” Neil shrugged and tugged self-consciously on his bangs. He’d been meaning to trim his hair anyway, it was starting to get in the way and he didn’t like the way it felt when it was all over the place, but with everything that had happened the past six months he just… lost track of it. 

Pleased, or maybe just satisfied, Andrew nodded and turned, leading them out of the bathroom. 

The rest of the Host Club was waiting, and there were gasps and exclamations the second they stepped out. Startled and incredibly confused, Neil looked behind himself to see if one of the others had somehow slipped into the bathroom as well and was coming out after them or something. Allison and Nicky had both gotten responses like that whenever they’d given impromptu fashion shows during the club meetings. 

“Sweetie, baby, _sugarplum,_ ” Nicky crooned as Neil looked back at the others upon finding that no, there was no one behind him doing a fashion show. 

“Never call me that,” Neil grimaced. 

“Which one?”

“Any of them.” He looked around at the group, all of whom except Andrew were looking at him with expressions between high appraisal and shock. “What’s going on? Why are you all looking at me like that?”

It was Allison that waved her hand, indicating all of him. “When were you going to tell us that you were _hot_?”

Neil looked at her strangely. “I’m… not?”

Nicky made a highly questionable keening sound and Neil looked at him in suspicious alarm. 

“Let me cut your hair and you _will_ be,” she declared and Neil’s eyes widened. He looked to Andrew, who shrugged. Smug bastard. 

“O...kay…?”

“And then you’re going to become a host!”

“Wait, what!?”

And that was how Neil officially joined the Palmetto Academy Host Club.

**Author's Note:**

> Tada! If you are also an OHSHC fan lemme know! Also, if you have any recommendations for which chapters/episodes I should do a spin on, I'm open to suggestions. Or just crazy antics you might wanna see? I have a few I know I wanna do, and a few that aren't based off the series at all. Gimme dem prompts.


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